


It's Her, Them, and Us

by Bum_Knee



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Post-Season/Series 02, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, The Twelve - Freeform, Villaneve Endgame, this might end up being a super long fic with lots of plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-01-13 16:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21172220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bum_Knee/pseuds/Bum_Knee
Summary: Set exactly one day after the ending of Killing Eve Season 2 Episode 8, Jhae (23), an Australian international assassin and former mentor and partner of Villanelle, is tasked by The Twelve to locate and kill Eve Polastri, but a personal vendetta and lust for revenge against Villanelle guides her to take a detour to confront the Russian first. In her curiosity she discovers the situation is more complex than what she first anticipated. Will she live up to her ruthless standard in the assassin leagues and succeed in killing her target? Or will she aid Villanelle and Eve due to her new findings?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> \- Jhae is pronounced as 'Jay' just in case it looks confusing :)
> 
> -Writing in bold AND italics together is what that character is thinking in that moment
> 
> This is my first time posting a fanfic, I hope it's not too horrible :D , and if it is... well...   
*Eve Polastri voice* Sorry to disappoint

The Big Ben, the London Eye, and a red telephone box. Jhae sniggers at the generic looking touristy postcard. With feet padding on the tiled floor she walks over and flicks the kettle on as she proceeds to set up her laptop on the kitchen bench. She positions it to be parallel to the edge of the counter, perfectly aligned, as usual. Letting out a breath, the screen lights up. It’s a simple program, one that definitely can’t be downloaded legally; a plain black window, and at the centre, a white outlined search box.

Flipping the postcard over her eyes immediately dart to the top right corner to the ‘hidden’ code. It’s a long one. They always are. Her fingers make quick work of typing in the code and placing the postcard alongside the laptop, again, moving it to be in line with the computer and the edge of the bench.

The woman gives one quick eyeing of the windows along the kitchen wall and scans along to the ones in the living room just to make sure no one’s peeking through from outside. Of course, she knows no normal person would, but being in the industry she’s in, and also being a naturally paranoid person, it’s a hard habit to break.

She slaps the Enter button.

Yes, _slaps_. She’s been told by multiple people in the past that she types loudly. She can’t help it. And let’s just say, most of those people won’t be telling her that anymore… or saying _anything_ at all anymore for that matter. Jhae faintly smiles at the flash of memories that swim at the front of her mind. Those screams she’ll never forget.

The page finally decides to load, no thanks to the shitty internet speed in her country. Her smile disappears as she unhooks her tortoiseshell glasses hanging from her shirt and places them on as she leans forward to focus.

“Eve…Polastri”.

A quick study of the target she notices the woman’s hair is similar to her own. Of course, Jhae’s isn’t as fluffy and wild but it’s still long, frizzy, dark brown, and has a structure of curls.

Continuing on…

_Asian,_

** _Like half of me…_ **

_Middle aged, _

** _Me, in a quarter of a century’s time…_ **

_Current Location: Unknown_

Jhae lets out a huff,

“Ugh… one of those ‘Search and Destroy’ type kills this time I guess…”, she mutters to herself.

_Last known location: Rome_

Taking in a deep breath,

“Looks like I’m starting in Ro—“, something catches her eye… or rather, _someone_.

Moving her fingers over the touch pad, she hovers over one of the photos.

** _Is that--?_ **

Double clicking, the photo zooms.

There’s someone walking alongside the target in this photo.

Another double click.

Blonde, tall, well dressed...

Double click.

Eyes grow wide with realisation as she slowly moves backwards, away from her keyboard to lean against the stove.

The kettle loudly flicks off, jolting Jhae out of her trance. Her eyes flick back to the screen, as her right hand rises up to her face. She absent-mindedly traces her fingers lightly over the two deep scars there, one horizontally above the top right of her upper lip, and the other, long, starting from the end of the first and continuing diagonally down her face, along her laugh line. A grin creeps on her lips, and the giggles start and she can’t stop.

“Long time no see… Villanelle”.


	2. Chapter 2

Jhae’s contact informs her that Villanelle has moved to London. Odd, considering Villanelle had always voiced to her that she wanted to live in Paris.

The flight is long, but they always are when you live so damn far away. Jhae has always found it to be both a blessing and a curse that Australia is just one big island separate from the rest of the world.

As she climbs into the cab to be taken to her hotel, her mind drifts to her target. Who is she? More importantly, who is she _to Villanelle_? Why were they together? And why kill her now?

This had never happened to her before; the questions. Jhae has one of the most vicious reputations in the assassin league. She never ponders, never hesitates, and has never failed a mission.

Why is she so curious then?

Shutting her weary eyes and resting her head back on the seat, she breathes deep; which turns out to be a mistake. The cab’s musty scent fills her nose. Squinting and crinkling her face she thinks,

** _That’s fucking rank._ **

What feels like a few minutes later, a car door slamming jolts her awake. Grabbing her coat and backpack she exits the vehicle and turns to witness the cab driver confused as to why he’s struggling with the weight of her bright green luggage from the boot of the car. Yeah, bright green. Who says assassins can’t own extravagant luggage? 

Raising her hand to stop him, he halts his movements and looks up at her, a single bead of sweat dripping down his temple. Jhae steps towards the back, her eyes focused on the suitcase. She places her hand in the grip and tugs it once. The driver watches in astonishment as the bag swiftly lands on the grey concrete footpath with a light thud. Jhae doesn’t look at him in the eyes; she only hands him the fee and a tip and announces a, “Thank you, sir”, and heads inside the lobby, bag in hand.

“Your room is ready, Miss. May I take your bag up?”

The hotel service desk woman is pretty, and polite. From quickly scanning her face and physique Jhae can tell she is in general a kind person, and not just one that puts on the ‘nice façade’ for the job she’s doing.

The assassin smiles in the direction of the woman, her eyes now focused on the name tag that’s pinned to the redhead’s blazer,

“Thanks, Elizabeth, but nah, I’ve got it. You have a good one though”, Jhae replies along with an appreciative nod and continues walking towards the elevators.

A lot of people think it’s weird, or get the wrong idea, but Jhae’s never liked looking people directly in the eye. Only a select few people she feels relaxed enough to make the connection with, otherwise, it’s always made her wildly uncomfortable. There’s too much judgement in just one look, and for someone with anxieties, she doesn’t need added stress of seeing what people think of her when their eyes connect. It’s been a habit she’s struggled with most of her life thanks to her past, but she’s learned you can tell enough about a person just from observing their mannerisms anyway.

Entering the hotel room, the first thing she does is snatch the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign and hook it onto the handle outside. Letting the heavy door swing and click shut behind her, Jhae’s now enveloped with complete silence. Breathing out a relieved sigh, she steps towards one of the neatly made twin beds and lifts her suitcase up onto it, the weight of it causes it to bounce a few times before settling. She unzips the bag and folds it out to display the well-organised contents.

Guns mainly. Clothes, of course. And a few of her favourite knives.

If the cab driver saw these, it would make sense to him as to why the bag was so heavy.

Observing her small collection of the equivalent to a portable armoury, Jhae studies which weapon she will be sleeping with tonight.

** _Eenie meenie miney moe…_ **

Pistol. Unstrapping the left side of the bag, she picks up the unloaded gun. Her gaze travels back down to the magazines and she grabs and inserts the ammunition. Without looking, the clip slides in with ease and she yanks the barrel back so it’s loaded. Being an assassin, she’s done this countless times before and so it’s become an odd and almost sinister sort of second nature to her.

Fatigue finally settling in, she decides to get ready for some much-needed sleep. Unfolding her pyjama pants, she wanders to the bathroom and slips off her day outfit, breathing a sigh of relief as each item of clothing comes off… especially her bra. Top 10 Best Feelings is taking that off at the end of a long day.

After removing and neatly folding the clothes, she places them on the side of the marble bathroom bench and slips on her loose-fitting navy blue pj pants. She’s never liked pyjamas that hug your body; Jhae’s all for the barely-there, hang-off-your-hips type of comfort. And no top. Another one to add to her Top 10.

It takes Jhae a few minutes to set up the bathroom the way she wants; drinking glass 10cm to the left of the Hot tap handle, wooden toothbrush resting horizontally face up on the left of the sink, and her floss and handtowel lined up on the right side.

As she brushes her teeth, she stares at herself in the mirror, eyes focusing on one detail.

The scars.

Her mind wanders to thoughts of the blonde she intends on confronting tomorrow. What will she say? Better yet, what’s a good entrance? Villanelle always knew how to announce herself, why not do the same?

After double checking the taps are tightly turned off and that everything is correctly positioned in their places on the bench, she walks over and flops into one of the queen-size beds. The assassin drifts off to sleep with a smirk on her face as she dreams of the day ahead, of ways to make their reunion unforgettable for Villanelle.


	3. Chapter 3

No one ever really gets used to jet lag, no matter how many times they fly.

Checking her phone, she notices it’s 5:43am, and she has an unread text message. Swiping her finger across the notification, it opens. It’s an address. _Villanelle’s _address. After typing a quick ‘thank you’ message to the contact whom she asked to find and track Villanelle’s phone, she copies the details of the received message and enters it into google maps.

Jhae smiles and lets out a small puff of air through her nose.

It’s not far from her current location.

** _Lucky me. _ **

Knowing she won’t be able to go back to sleep now that the feeling of excitement bubbles through her body, she decides to get up, get ready, and surprise visit the blonde for an ungodly hour of unprompted breakfast. She chuckles to herself knowing full well Villanelle likes to sleep in, and this plan will surely make things interesting.

Staring at her luggage, Jhae’s deep in thought about what to wear. Lifting folded clothes out and displaying them neatly on the bed she decides on one of her favourites; a navy-blue velvet blazer with black satin trim on the lapels, a plum purple button-up silk shirt, a matching-coloured purple pocket square, simple fitted long black pants with a navy pinstripe down the side of each leg, a black faux leather belt, and black combat boots. Entire outfit with pockets… she won’t go anywhere without functioning pockets.

Practical AND stylish? Nothing wrong with that.

Looking at herself in the mirror dressed in her outfit, she takes a moment and stares at her hair. An idea manifests itself in her mind. The dark brown waves and curls frame her face and hang down past her shoulders in a slightly similar fashion to how her target had hers in the photo. It’s a good look she’s not going to lie… but the only look she’s focused on now is the reaction it triggers from Villanelle.

**_Five weapons, _**she decides to take.

Two knives small enough to comfortably fit one in each of her boots, a switchblade in the back-right pocket of her pants, a small symmetrical wide one that slips and clicks in to disguise itself as her belt buckle, and her personal favourite; a detailed and intricately patterned dagger that sits well on the inside of her blazer pocket.

** _Oh! And a pair of handcuffs, just to make things interesting... _ **

Once armed, she walks to the bedside table and unplugs her phone from the charger and proceeds to turns off all the lights in her room.

Jhae makes her way down to the lobby and requests for a taxi to be called by the staff member at the front desk. A few minutes pass and she can sense his eyes roaming her body as she stands just inside of the glass front doors waiting for the cab. Jhae’s aware she currently looks good but she’s never been a fan of attention from strangers. It’s one of the reasons why she’s so good at what she does, having a natural gift to blending into the background, going unnoticed by almost everyone the majority of the time. But his blatant staring is starting to really irritate her.

Taking in a deep breath, she turns away from the doors and moves towards the desk again with purpose. She catches his head movement quickly snapping away from her direction just as he realises she’s coming towards him.

“Is there a problem”, her eyes divert to his name tag, “Samuel?”

“Uh, n-no Miss”, trying his best to act like he wasn’t just burning a hole into her side profile seconds ago.

“Don’t stare. It’s just rude. You’re an adult, you should know this by now”, she leaves him to sulk about being scolded and walks to the taxi that has just pulled up.

Giving the driver the address, Jhae sits back as they set off in silence, the only sound being the car’s running engine and the classical music faintly playing from the radio.

It unintentionally causes memories to flood to the forefront of her mind, ones she forgot she had. Villanelle used to enjoy classical music. Enjoy? Is that the right description? Truth be told she’d always found it hard to be able to pinpoint exactly what emotions the Russian woman experienced, if she had any at all. But nevertheless, the time she spent training Villanelle, classical music was always a constant during their time together, and it wasn’t something Jhae picked up on until just now.

Thinking back to the stakeouts they had together, waiting hours on end in shitty unsuspecting beat up cars just to catch a glimpse of their target, Oksana would always change the radio to the classical station. Jhae never minded it. If anything, it helped pass the time. She recalls the time her former mentor, Konstantin, had first informed her of a new recruit, a ‘trainee’ she was forced to take under her wing even though Oksana was three years older than her. He had briefed Jhae on Oksana in three words,

“Violent, unpredictable, impressionable”, never one to overshare.

She had simply replied with an exaggerated eye roll and a disinterested,

“Aren’t we all?”

Jhae ended up spending two years with her, after Oksana, who had early on changed her name to Villanelle, was broken out of prison. She trained her and talked with her. And that’s how she caught snippets into the young Russian’s past. Jhae acted as a sponge, absorbing every bit of information to learn about her as she could, when she could. Villanelle never really opened up to anyone and it was hard to identify which was truth and which was fiction through all her sarcasm and humour. But on one particular instance Jhae quizzed Villanelle about why she would always momentarily get distracted and fixated on her whenever Jhae let her hair down. The Russian’s demeanour would change. And that’s when she learned about Villanelle’s first love, an older woman called Anna. She didn’t dig for details, picking up on the fact it was a borderline triggering subject for the blonde, but instead let Villanelle vent if she needed, though very uncommonly, and their conversations always ended with a comment about something totally unrelated; an indication that the subject needed to be changed. 

Distractions from serious conversations was a coping mechanism for the Russian, Jhae became to notice. Coping for what exactly, she didn’t know. She heard whispers from their ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ within their organisation though, and once from Konstantin himself, that Villanelle’s past is a dark one. One so painful it’s obviously moulded her into the psychopathic woman she is now, although she would never say that to Villanelle out loud.

Villanelle was easily the most complex human she’d ever met and Jhae had found herself wearing her hair down more often than not. It brought her comfort in knowing she was exactly the Russian’s type. It was mild manipulative behaviour she knew; didn’t care though, they were both messed up anyway, but it felt nice to feel wanted for once in her life. They became oddly obsessed with one another over time and eventually became a _thing. _Their ‘relationship’ was unconventional to say the least; kill a few people, then go home and fuck each other.

They just worked as partners… in more ways than one. It was stable.

For a while…

Jhae was pulled out of her thoughts as the car rolled to a stop. Good timing too. Dwelling on the past drives her mad.

Handing the cash and tip over the driver’s shoulder she steps out of the vehicle,

“Thanks”, she doesn’t bother looking back at him as she shuts the car door behind her.

Her eyes focus on the building in front of her, it almost looks like a series of large apartments built next to each other opposed to all the high-rises like back in Sydney. It’s a bit brighter now and the sun’s rays are just peeking over the rooves of the neighbourhood. Slipping out her phone from her blazer pocket she checks the time; 6:17am.

Inspecting the address again she notes the apartment number, Four. She snorts. Jhae recalls her mother telling her when she was a child that in Chinese culture, four is the unluckiest of numbers due to how similar it is to the word of ‘Death’. Seems a suitable residential number for the assassin infamously known as The Demon with No Face though…

She walks down the path on left side, observing the gold metal numbers bolted on the brick walls, and about twenty metres down she comes to a grey door with a metal handle. Number four. She tries to push it open. No luck. There’s a gold bell with a rope on the right side of the door, but no… she won’t ring it.

Jhae remembers as she arrived there were sets of balconies for each apartment on the right side of the building and so she decides that’ll be where she makes her entrance.

Strolling to the opposite side she stares at the balcony, observing… analysing her best manoeuvre. A brown pipe runs from the ground up the wall past the balcony and winding its way to connect to the roof.

** _Perfect._ **

Grinning, she steps towards the pipe. Taking in a breath, she hoists herself up, boots digging into the bricks and hands clinging to the metal. This isn’t her first time doing this. In fact, she remembers teaching Villanelle how to climb pipes like this with minimal exertion required. Jhae had to admit, the blonde was a very fast learner.

A few seconds pass and she successfully reaches the balcony. Sitting herself on the edge of the black metal railing, she lifts her legs and spins around to land with a light thud next to some pot plants. The brunette rests her back against the brick wall as she peeks through the window into the apartment. She can see a bed in the middle of the room but its angled facing diagonally away from her and so she can only see a pair of feet hanging off the edge. She huffs her annoyance at the peacock-feather patterned headboard as it blocks her view of the persons face.

Moving her gaze away from the bed she studies the balcony door, no doubt it’ll be locked too, and so she moves on to eye the slightly ajar lengthy window just above the row of veggie plants sitting along the wall. Stepping towards it she reaches out and delicately hooks her fingers underneath the black framed glass. It smoothly swings open wide enough for Jhae to sidestep into the room.

Straightening out her clothes she immediately feels the change in temperature, it’s warm compared to the brisk morning air from outside. Makes sense as to why Villanelle left the window open. A little air circulation is always nice.

Concentrating back onto the person in the bed before her, she stalks around it to the left. Years of training has allowed her to sneak so silently that her boots make no sound with each step.

Coming more into view she roams her eyes along the woman’s bare legs, up the crinkles in the sheets, along slender arms... and

** _Oh._ **

There’s two people in the bed.

Obviously, Villanelle had a good time last night. Jhae observes the other body; the blonde assassin’s asleep on her side, hair up in a messy bun, and her back facing towards Jhae and the other woman.

Jhae’s gaze moves back to the sleeping auburn-haired woman.

Silently giggling to herself for a moment, her expression then turns dark.

Her hand suddenly reaches out and presses down over the woman’s mouth, applying enough pressure to wake her up and communicate a silent threat for her not to squeal. A sharp intake of breath through her nose is the only sound the woman makes as she awakens to witness Jhae’s wide eyes staring into her own.

They stay like that for a few moments, Jhae keeping her hand firmly held over the terrified woman’s mouth while waiting until she has taken enough breaths to at least calm down enough to cooperate.

Jhae raises her left hand to her lips, communicating a silent ‘shh’; and the woman wildly nods in understanding against her hand. The brunette’s eyes flick back over to Villanelle’s sleeping form and observes her breathing… thankfully, their actions haven’t woken her.

Brown eyes bare back into frightened blue ones as a reminder to stay quiet as Jhae slowly removes her hand from covering the woman’s mouth.

Straightening her back, the assassin looks down at the girl and gestures for her to leave.

Both women move in silence, Jhae needn’t look at the woman’s naked body and so busies herself with helping gather her clothes; it’s the least she could do for scaring the shit out of an absolute stranger first thing in the morning. She turns her back as the auburn-haired woman scrambles to unceremoniously put her clothes on and then proceeds to lead her down the stairs back to the grey front door.

Unlocking and swinging it open, Jhae holds the door as the other woman slips past and moves down the step and onto the path barefooted. The brunette watches as the woman pads a few steps away and sits resting her back against the wall to slip on her shoes.

“Was she good?” 

The woman freezes at Jhae’s abrupt question. Her cheeks start to flush as she finishes strapping her heels and slowly stands up, palms resting against the wall for support. Her eyes stay downcast as she gently bites her bottom lip and replies with a soft,

“Honestly?… The best I’ve ever had”.

Both their eyes connect for a split second before Jhae snaps her gaze away and stares at the woman’s tan-coloured leather jacket. A smile starts to break out on the brunette’s lips and the laughter soon follows. She nods her head in the direction of the now also giggling auburn-haired woman.

After a few moments of shared amusement, the woman gives an awkward wave to Jhae and turns to leave in which the Aussie returns with a smirk and nod before the door is shut once again.

Jhae gives herself a moment at the bottom of the stairs to just breathe. It’s just her and Villanelle at last. She ascends the wooden steps one at a time in complete silence and casts her eyes on the sleeping form of her former partner. Standing at the foot of the bed, she watches. Observes. Studies her surroundings.

** _Nice kitchen._ **

Wandering over to it, she slips out her phone and places it down in line with the corner of the black marble benchtop. Continuing to the fridge, she opens the steel door and looks over its contents. Villanelle has the basics… and orange juice.

** _Of course._ **

It’s good enough though.

Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she checks to see if the blonde is still asleep, and surely enough she is.

Taking out four eggs and some strips of bacon clumped together in a plastic freezer bag from the fridge, she places them next to the stove. She remembers seeing a few cherry tomatoes growing on a plant next to the window she snuck in from and so paces over and once again pushes the window far enough open for her to pluck some.

Grabbing the knife from the drying rack next to the sink, she starts slicing the tomatoes on the wooden chopping board on the bench, throwing a glance every now and then over to Villanelle to see if she’s woken up yet. Surprisingly the blonde stays asleep.

** _Obviously, she had a good night then. _ **

Unhooking two pans hanging from the wall behind her, she lights the stove, rests them atop the flames, and throws some bacon in one, then cracks the eggs in the other. While they sizzle, she chucks some slices of bread into the toaster that sits further along on the bench.

The Aussie gets lost in her thoughts while she flips the eggs and the bacon strips. Villanelle’s always had a thing for bacon. Maybe she liked the feel of the crunch with every bite. And more often than not, the blonde would intentionally chew with her mouth open just to trigger Jhae’s misophonia. Maybe the blonde took pleasure in being the cause of the brunette’s distress when she did it, or maybe it was the excitement at not knowing what reaction she would witness next. It was Villanelle’s sick and twisted torture on Jhae that she wouldn’t stop herself from inducing.

Still, they got on as best as any murderous partners could when they weren’t tormenting one another for the sake of their own cruel amusement.

Branching off from those thoughts; oranges, pardon the pun, Villanelle also had… constantly. Jhae’s lost count how many times they’ve had meals together with that as a main ingredient-

“Eve…?”

Jhae freezes.

She’d almost forgotten Villanelle was even there. Her voice is soft, uncertain. She sounds, shaken?

Jhae doesn’t move from facing the wall. Villanelle hastily sits up on the side of her bed and stares at the back of the woman standing in her kitchen.

The only sound heard between them was the increasingly louder sizzles coming from the pans.

The brunette takes a moment to gather herself and snaps back into action, spinning the knobs in front of the stove off. She breaks out into a wild grin, and looks down at the pans, her back still facing Villanelle. She could almost hear the thoughts bouncing around in the blonde’s head.

_Am I hallucinating?_

_…Dreaming? _

_Is Eve really here?_

Jhae just wants to find out who this ‘Eve’ is to Villanelle and then she can carry on with her mission. The curiosity is gnawing at her. And besides, it’s more enjoyable this way; a little surprise torture dragged out for the person she violently parted ways with not long ago.

The toaster switches off, springing the slices up which momentarily grasps both women’s attention, until Jhae slowly turns around.

Their eyes meet. And the Aussie catches it; a brief flash of surprise mixed with confusion in those hazel eyes. And almost as instantly as it was there, it recedes, back to an impassive expression.

“Oh. Thought you were dead”.

** _Unbelievable. _ **

“Yeah, well, it’s going to take a lot more than two slashes with a knife at my face to kill me”, Jhae scoffs, “brekky?”

The Russian sighs and groggily gets up from sitting on the edge of the bed to stretch, the action causes the sheets to fall off her body and onto the floor.

It’s not like she hasn’t seen Villanelle naked before, but it’s been a while, and Jhae had to admit, it was a stunning sight. Eyebrows raise and hands holding utensils halt as she just watches. Her gaze follows the Russian as she moves across the room to her closet.

** _Fuck, she’s as fit as I remember her being…_ **

Villanelle, never one without confidence, doesn’t squirm under the gaze of her former mentor. She just picks up the white-tiger-patterned blue silk robe from the hook behind the wardrobe door and walks with a slight sway in her hips back over to the kitchen.

Jhae’s head tilts as she drinks in the beauty of the body that the woman has, who’s now standing on the other side of the bench to her. Villanelle really is a vision to behold. The Aussie reabsorbs into her mind every detail she’d noticed in the past about the blonde; her entire lean but toned form, the neck she’s kissed, bitten, and squeezed countless times, those prominent collar bones, her amazing breasts she’s held and licked, the perfect curve of her hips, that _ass_, the honey coloured hair she’s stroked and pulled… and,

** _Those eyes… GOD, her flawless skin too… _ **

To Jhae, Villanelle is pure untamed _beautiful strength_.

Villanelle slips the robe onto her shoulders, a smug look on her face. The brunette just rolls her eyes, but just before the blonde can drape the material around herself to tie it, Jhae spots a scar on the left of Villanelle’s waist.

It’s still pink. The wound was obviously recent.

She eyes the mark for a moment before her line of sight is cut off by the blonde folding the robe over herself and effectively, and intentionally, blocking the brunette’s view.

Villanelle’s never been one to shy away from attention…

Jhae darts her eyes back up, but the Russian’s don’t meet hers.

Unusual.

Instead, she busies herself with tying off her gown and perkily reaching over the bench to pinch a strip of bacon up and out of the pan to crunch on it.

The Aussie raises an eyebrow, not being fazed by the obviously poor attempt at diverting her attention away from the subject of the injury. She makes a mental note to revisit the topic later.

As Villanelle obnoxiously chews on the piece of bacon, much to Jhae’s annoyance, she hunches over and rests her elbows on the bench, dipping her head a bit in aim of meeting the brunette’s eyes.

“I assume you _politely _let my date out…? After breaking in, of course”.

Jhae chuckled at the Russian’s comment while scooping the food onto the two plates.

“Of course! We had a looovely chat. She seemed _very _special”, a little higher pitched than usual just to emphasise the sarcasm and ends her reply with an innocent-looking smile.

“Hmm”.

Villanelle continues crunching on the bacon as she stares at the other woman moving around her kitchen, gathering the food and placing them on the plates for both of them. The silence is tense. The gears are turning in Villanelle’s head, and Jhae can sense it.

With the preparation completed, Jhae slides one of the plates over to the blonde and announces a simple,

“Bon apple tit”.

It’s an intentionally horrible pronunciation. Jhae knows Villanelle is fluent in French, and small things like this that cause the blonde to frown and tut in disgust are a win for the brunette. If Villanelle can be obnoxious, so can Jhae.

With a knife and fork, the Aussie cuts into a rather large corner of her stacked eggs, tomato, and toast and shoves it into her mouth. Cheeks filled with the food, and with a wide grin on her face, she lets out an exaggerated moan at the taste.

Villanelle scrunches her brows together, and cringes at the display, she looks down at her own plate and responds with,

“Is it poisoned?”

Jhae halts her chewing at the absurd question. Mouth still full, and with an expression of offense, she replies,

“Fucking what? No”.

Villanelle looks up at that, her expression now relatively serious.

She glares at Jhae for a few moments and then utters,

“Are you here to kill me?”

** _Ahh… _ **

So that’s what Villanelle was contemplating before; the reason of Jhae being here.

Like cutting the tension with a knife, Jhae’s phone screen lights up and both women avert their gaze to the device.

The brunette swallows her mouthful and momentarily avoids the question to pick up her phone. She tilts it up far enough so that Villanelle can’t see the screen, but not far enough that it’s obvious she’s hiding the notification from the blonde.

Villanelle studies Jhae’s face intently as she watches the woman read whatever was sent to her and waits for a reaction, but…

Nothing.

Jhae’s poker face is firmly in place.

After observing the Australian type out what looked like a short response to whatever message was received, Villanelle watches Jhae lock her phone and place it back down in the same spot as before; perfectly in line with the corner of the bench, but this time faced down.

She raises an eyebrow at that and squints her eyes in a mix of suspicion and curiosity.

The brunette takes no mind of the look Villanelle is giving her and glances down at her plate to slice another section of her breakfast. She proceeds to chew another mouthful and shakes her head, finally replying to the blonde’s question,

“Nah… I’m visiting someone here though, but thought I’d pop in and say hi to you first. It’s been a while”.

That answer was vague. But Villanelle lets it slide for now. She looks back down at her untouched food and exhales. 

“It has”.

Jhae follows her line of sight and huffs in annoyance at the blonde’s obvious stubborn distrust at believing that the food is still in some way inedible. She reaches over with her cutlery and cuts off a corner from Villanelle’s stacked toast and brings it up to eat it herself, proving that there’s nothing wrong with it.

Being convinced, the blonde concedes and sheepishly digs in.

They eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Sharing a meal for the first time in over a year brings back memories for the both of them; surprisingly, positive ones.

Jhae finishes her food first and rests the cutlery on her plate before walking over to the fridge again. She pulls out the jug of orange juice and walks back over to the drying rack to pour the juice in the glass left there. Villanelle, still eating, watches the Aussie’s every step. Every time the brunette’s back is turned, she thinks about reaching over the table and snatching the phone resting on the corner of the bench.

Not yet though… She’ll wait for the right moment.

Jhae steps back to her place on the opposite side of the bench and with a genuinely soft smile she holds out the glass of orange juice to Villanelle. The blonde is taken aback at first, but slowly reaches her hand out to accept the drink. Their fingers gently graze each other’s in the exchange, and their eyes simultaneously meet.

“Thank you…”, Villanelle accepts the offered glass and brings it close to her lips.

Jhae gives her a nod in acknowledgment and proceeds to gather both their plates and everything she used to cook, over to the sink.

The water starts running as Jhae begins to wash the dishes. Villanelle remains leaning against the bench, observing how the morning light is now starting to stream through the windows. The angle of it hits the side of Jhae’s face and lights up her wavy hair.

Villanelle stares, completely enraptured by the sight, and takes a few gulps of the liquid.

She’s mesmerised.

Eyes never leaving the brunette’s curls, she pushes herself up and walks around the side of the bench, glass in her left hand, and with her right, she glides her fingers along the edge of the marble table until… they hit the phone. Smoothly picking it up she wanders towards Jhae. She stands close enough that her chest presses lightly against the Aussie’s left upper arm.

Jhae pauses amidst her scrubbing from the feel of the blonde pressing up against her. She turns her head and is met with a sultry look.

Villanelle’s eye dart from Jhae’s hair, to her eyes, down to her mouth, and raises her left hand, holding what’s left of the drink, up to the brunette’s lips.

Eyebrows raise in curiosity as Jhae slowly tilts her head back, eyes never leaving the blonde’s hazel ones, and lets Villanelle pour the last sip into her mouth.

The cool liquid slides down her throat as she swallows.

“Cheers…”, Jhae softly breathes out as the blonde smirks while lowering the now empty glass into the sink.

Jhae catches the way Villanelle averts her eyes down to her neck, and next thing she knows the blonde is leaning further towards her, and then… lips.

Villanelle plants one soft lingering kiss on the side of her neck.

The brunette shuts her eyes at the feeling, but unbeknownst to her, the blonde raises the hand holding Jhae’s phone up behind her. If Villanelle’s memory serves her well, Jhae won’t have a password on her phone.

Another kiss, slightly more open-mouthed this time, is planted again onto the brunette’s skin.

The phone unlocks and Villanelle’s eyes are focused on the device she’s holding behind her former mentor’s back.

Jhae turns off the tap and relaxes into the feeling of the blonde’s left hand sliding up over her chest and past the right side of her jaw to comb through her hair while Villanelle’s lips repeatedly press against her pulse point on her left.

It takes a second for the Russian to locate the message app icon, but once she does, she opens it. The most recent contact is a random number, no name. Starting from the top is a message received at 5:37 earlier that morning; her own address. The message is followed by Jhae’s reply of a simple thanks, but the next one is what interests her.

Jhae lets out a soft whine at Villanelle’s slow but sensual attack on her neck and the fingers gently tugging at the curls in her hair.

Reading the message that was received at 7:07am, it simply contains the words, _Target’s current location_, followed by an address to a private hospital.

Memorising the address, Villanelle tightens her grip on the brunette’s hair, and pulls Jhae’s head back to expose more of her neck. She flattens her tongue on the Aussie’s skin and licks a long line from the bottom of her neck and up towards her jaw.

Jhae releases a rather loud moan at the action while Villanelle locks the phone and lowers her right hand.

The blonde places one last soft kiss on Jhae’s pulse point and releases the grip on her hair.

Jhae opens her eyes and turns to face Villanelle, but before she can say anything, the blonde announces,

“I’m going to go take a shower… Thank you for the meal”.

The only thing Jhae’s brain lets her do is nod. There are no words.

She watches the blonde smirk at her and then turn her back as she walks alongside the bench towards the bathroom.

Villanelle cleverly uses her body to block the motion of her smoothly placing the phone back onto the corner of the bench out of Jhae’s view.

The brunette misses it, and instead, turns back to the sink to continue washing up.

As much as she’s surprisingly enjoyed this reunion so far, Jhae has to remind herself that she’s here for information, and revenge. To get back at the woman who tried to kill her; the one that mutilated her face and left her for dead.

Just as she finishes stacking the last of the pans onto the drying rack, she switches off the tap, twice, to double check it’s completely off, and turns around to grab a tea towel to dry her hands on.

Picking up one hanging from the oven door handle, she begins leisurely wiping each finger, deep in thought about how to approach the topic of this woman called ‘Eve’ to Villanelle.

Stepping back over to the bench again, she reaches out for the jug of orange juice in aim of putting it back into the fridge, but as soon as she sees her phone, she stops dead in her tracks.

Her eyes glance up towards the bathroom door, and she can hear the faint sound of the shower running.

Looking back down at her phone, it’s not how she left it.

It sits face down, but on a slightly crooked angle; not parallel to the edge of the bench.

Jhae picks it up and unlocks it.

** _Sly motherfucker…_ **

She’s always one to close her apps, and the fact the message app pops up as soon as she unlocks it proves that Villanelle was the last to look through it; not to mention the way it was carelessly placed on the tabletop too.

So, Jhae knows Villanelle’s seen the latest text.

** _No matter._ **

Villanelle doesn’t know that _she_ knows.

The Russian may have seen the address to the hospital her ‘target’ is currently at, but she doesn’t know _who_ that target is, nor that it’s Eve and that she’s there at all. This just makes things more interesting for Jhae, giving her options on how to play this.

Deciding to let the cards play out, she locks her phone again and places it back down the same way Villanelle had.

Game on.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies it's taken so long for an update. 
> 
> Anyway this is my first time writing smut so sorry if it's not brilliant, I tried my best :D

Her eyes are closed but the lights are still so damn bright. Groaning, she frowns and squeezes her eyes shut harder to try and block it out.

“Ahh, welcome back”.

That voice, that accent; all too familiar to her. Eve lifts her right arm over her face and cracks an eye open to look at the man.

Konstantin’s there, donning his infamous navy-blue coat and slouching in a chair to her right. His legs are crossed, a newspaper rests upon his lap, and a smug look is displayed on his bearded face. He lifts a finger, as if to scold her and says,

“When I said ‘make her hate you’, I didn’t mean while she held a gun in her hand”.

Eve dramatically rolls her eyes at Konstantin’s obvious ‘I told you so’ remark. A second later the door clicks open and Carolyn walks in, two takeaway coffee mugs in hand.

“Oh Eve, you’re awake. Good”.

Eve sighs at Carolyn’s typical unsympathetic observation and turns her head towards her,

“How long have I been out?”

“A couple of days. You seemed to have lost rather a lot of blood”, Carolyn almost sounded impressed? Like that outcome was unexpected.

Eve scowls,

“Yeah, well, I would expect as much from a bullet wound…”

Carolyn raises her eyebrows at that and nods once,

“Yes. Well, it was lucky Konstantin found you when he did, otherwise I’m afraid you would probably still be in Rome. But more…”

Idly waving her hand about she searches for the right word,

“Dead”.

Eve shuts her eyes at that. ‘_Dead_’. It sounds so final. Her thoughts revert back to that moment, in the ruins. Villanelle really left her there… to die.

** _I bet that asshole has already moved on. _ **

She hears the rustling of the newspaper and a creak as Konstantin rises from the chair. Opening her eyes again she watches him move across the room and accept the disposable cup filled with what smelled like coffee offered from Carolyn.

“So, where are we? And what now?”

The two heads turn towards Eve at her question. Konstantin lifts off the plastic lid of his cup and lightly blows away the steam coming from the hot beverage as Carolyn confidently addresses her,

“London. And right now, you’re staying here. I have some of the best doctors looking after you. We’re going to wrap up the rest of the Peel investigation and when you’re feeling up to it, I’d like you to come back and work on gathering intel on The Twelve”.

Eve can’t help but scoff, which causes a jolt of pain to strike her still fresh bullet wound on her waist.

“What makes you think I _want_ to come back and work for you? After your secret little set-up in Rome how could I possibly trust you?”

“Because Konstantin has informed me that one of The Twelve’s handlers has been killed. Meaning Villanelle is a loose end they will most definitely want to tie up, which also leads to you. They may or may not know that you’re still alive but I’m willing to bet they’ll have someone follow that up. You’re smart Eve. Wouldn’t you rather work under MI6 investigating the organisation that wants you dead? Or be jobless and live _maybe_ a week in ignorant bliss before you’re killed in a ‘freak accident’ that no one will dispute?”

Eve clenches her fists in frustration under the thin scratchy blanket. She hates that Carolyn is right. If she goes out there now to try and live her life in hope The Twelve thinks she’s already dead, realistically she’ll be living in fear every second. Her days _will _be numbered. If she re-joins the MI6 team, at least she can be transferred to a safehouse and have a security team with 24-hour protection until The Twelve business is sorted.

“Okay. I'll return to MI6”, Eve concedes.

Carolyn smirks,

“Good. Well, that’s that”, she turns to pick up her brown fur coat that Eve has only just noticed is draped on the back of a chair close to the back wall. She continues as the two move towards the doorway,

“You’re due to be discharged later this afternoon, we’ll return then to transfer you to a safehouse”, and with that they make their exit.

Just before the door closes Konstantin lifts his coffee to Eve as a silent acknowledgment of goodbye. Eve returns the gesture by lifting her hand.

And then she’s alone. She listens as the light clacking of Carolyn’s heels and Konstantin’s boots stomping heavily against the hospital floor recede down the corridor.

She hates it, but her mind drifts to thoughts of Villanelle.

** _Where is that bitch? And what is she doing right now?_ **

_______

“So, what have you been doing all this time while you thought I was six feet under?”

** _Time to test the waters…_ **

Legs crossed, Jhae sits on the end of Villanelle’s bed, calmly watching as the blonde moves to and fro in her wardrobe, picking out an outfit for the day.

“Killing…”, Villanelle flatly replies, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“Mm. Last I heard you lived in Paris. Why the sudden move?”

It takes half a moment for the blonde to answer, and when she does it’s just with a simple, 

“Work. I was needed here”.

The temporary pause isn’t left unnoticed by the brunette, but she plays it off as if she doesn't recognise any hesitation.

“What brings you _here _though? It’s miserable as shit and always cold and wet”.

“Like you”, Villanelle turns to Jhae with a glint in her eyes.

The Aussie looks at her, half lidded eyes, raised eyebrows, and her face the definition of being unamused.

“I was recruited by MI6”, the blonde continues seriously.

“Wait, what? Why?” This discovery is most surprising and definitely unexpected.

Villanelle shrugs nonchalantly while selecting a garment from an assortment of _very _expensive hung up clothes.

“Because I’m amazing”.

“But I heard you killed two members of the British Intelligence. That would mean they were from the same department that hired you. Why would MI6 hire an international assassin that murdered two of their own?”

Jhae was a little baffled at the fact that coming here she was expecting answers and information on her target, but now all she can form are more and more questions.

** _Whatever is going on is a lot bigger than I thought…_ **

“…Who told you I killed them?”

Villanelle is looking directly at Jhae from the doorway now. Her gaze is unwavering and has a simmering fierceness lingering in her wide hazel eyes.

“Konstantin”.

Villanelle doesn’t react to Jhae’s admission, and instead emerges from the walk-in wardrobe fully dressed in what is no doubt a thousands of dollars’ worth high-end jumpsuit that leaves her shoulders bare and ties up at the back of her neck.

She saunters over to the Aussie sitting on her bed and,

“Hmm”, is the only acknowledgement the brunette gets as she’s eyed from her boots all the way up to her hair.

“He always had a soft spot for you, you know”.

Villanelle’s eyes squint at that.

“_Had_?”

“He’s dead. Rumour has it he betrayed our organisation”.

Villanelle’s eyebrows only raise, and a grin forms on her bold red lipstick applied lips.

“Yes… He _is_ dead”.

Jhae doesn’t know what to make of that. The tone leaves too much to the imagination. Either Villanelle already knows Konstantin is dead and is affirming the brunette’s comment, or like Jhae was thinking before, there’s something more complex happening that she’s unaware of and it’s really a promise from Villanelle that he is going to be.

The mood in the room shifts as Villanelle moves to stand directly in front of Jhae while she remains sitting on the bed. The Russian’s right arm raises and she proceeds to gently comb her fingers through the brunette’s luscious curls once again.

“I forgot how sexy you are”.

Jhae scoffs at that.

“Bullshit. You forgot about me entirely. Vill, you left me for dead”.

Being this close, and having spent over two years with Villanelle in the past, Jhae’s able to pick up on the micro-expressions the blonde makes when she’s bothered, and she’s definitely bothered by those last few words.

Villanelle untangles her hand from Jhae’s hair, the tendons from her jaw clench and unclench. The little dimples above her eyebrows form as she somewhat frowns in concern, and then her gaze, it grows distant.

Before the brunette can quiz her on her reaction, her eyes dart down to the blonde’s right hand as it descends to return to her side. Jhae reaches out and catches it, her hold firm on Villanelle’s wrist.

“_You _took my ring?!”

The Russian is snapped out of her trance, and upon hearing the accusation she gives the Aussie a faux innocent ‘yikes’ face followed by an exaggerated shrug.

“So, what? You try to kill me and then loot my bleeding dead corpse while my body’s still warm?!”

“I didn’t think you would be needing it anymore… Yeah”.

A loud slap echoes in the apartment, effectively silencing them both.

Villanelle’s left cheek is turning a shade of pink, as is Jhae’s right palm of her hand. A drop of red, deeper than her shade of lipstick, seeps out and drips down the left corner of Villanelle’s mouth. Hazel eyes snap back and glare into brown ones.

Neither woman says anything more, the only sound being their heavy breathing in the still apartment.

Villanelle snatches her wrist out of the vice grip and lunges it forward, aiming for Jhae’s neck.

The brunette’s back is slammed down onto the mattress by the force and feels the blonde climb on the bed to straddle her.

She can feel the rose gold ring that resides on Villanelle’s thumb leaving an indent on the side of her neck. This isn’t her first time being choked, nor is it the first being choked _by_ Villanelle, and the masochistic side of her starts to manifest. Soon enough she can’t help the teeth-baring grin that begins forming on her oxygen-deprived face.

Villanelle stares blankly at the woman below her. She’s making the brunette turn a faint hue of purple. The blonde watches the green veins on Jhae’s forehead and temple make appearances, protruding from her skin.

A split-second eyebrow twitch into a frown is the only indication that Villanelle needs to know that Jhae is genuinely fighting against passing out now. And the next thing she feels is the point of a blade pressing against her clothed stomach.

Villanelle can’t stop herself from rolling her eyes. Her grip loosens from the brunette’s neck and she focuses on watching the prominent veins gradually disappear as they regain oxygen.

Jhae breathes deeply as she tries to calm herself. As she looks up at Villanelle, she sees desire now reflected in the Russian’s gaze.

** _That hair… _ **

Villanelle thinks.

Jhae’s hair is splayed out on the bed, streaks of sun bursting through the windows are highlighting the curls and colour, the thickness, and the volume of it. In this moment, all she sees is _Eve. _

She feels a hand cup the left side of her face. Her eyes widen. And just after feeling the brunette’s thumb gently wipe away the drop of blood from her jaw and up to the side of her mouth, she leans down and presses her lips against the Aussie’s.

They fall into a wildly familiar rhythm. Villanelle gradually opening her mouth more and more as they continue to kiss, and so does Jhae. Their tongues meet again and again, and the Aussie slows to gently lick over the blonde’s split lip that was caused from her slap; and then she catches it and squeezes it between her teeth.

Villanelle grunts and roughly shoves Jhae’s left leg aside to make room for herself to lie against her.

Giggling from her own cheekiness, Jhae lifts her head, looks to the right, and casts aside the dagger she’s still holding onto the bedside table. Villanelle’s hand roughly grabs a hold of Jhae’s locks which causes the brunette to momentarily yelp in pain. She ignores the cries, pushes Jhae’s head back against the bed, and smirks before diving down to bite her exposed neck. Grunts of pain are instantly turned into moans of pleasure.

Villanelle kisses the faint bite indent she’s just left and moves to unbutton the Aussie’s purple silk shirt. Jhae reciprocates and reaches around Villanelle’s neck to undo the tie of knotted material. It falls gracefully against her own stomach as if weighing nothing and the action essentially exposes the Russian’s breasts.

Villanelle parts the purple shirt, revealing Jhae’s bra and stomach. She leans down and kisses her collar bones as the Aussie slides her hands over the Russian’s toned shoulders.

“I still want my ring back”, Jhae softly breathes.

“Don’t talk”, is the reply she receives, along with the blonde’s hands skilfully unbuckling her black belt.

Jhae sits up. For now, she complies. She shuffles her blazer, shirt, and bra off, tosses them on the floor, and reaches behind Villanelle to unzip the rest of the blonde’s jumpsuit all while Villanelle’s lips are continuing to leave open mouthed kisses on her chest.

The two women part, only for seconds, to simultaneously rid themselves of their remaining clothing. Boots are thrown, pants are shed, the blonde’s jumpsuit is hurriedly kicked off her legs, along with both pairs of their underwear; all haphazardly thrown, and neither woman cares where they land.

Jhae strokes her hands up the Russian’s waist, ribs, and onto her breasts, but doesn’t get a chance to squeeze them as the blonde grabs both the brunette’s wrists and pushes her back down. It was a message heard loud and clear.

_Villanelle’s _in charge.

It doesn’t stop Jhae from pushing the boundaries a bit though; just to get a rise out of the blonde for her own amusement. She wraps her legs around Villanelle and pulls her forward so their hips are flush, and the contact causes Jhae to sigh and Villanelle to grunt.

Their kissing gets more heated, and the blonde strokes her ringed hand along the Aussie’s neck again, down to her left breast, pinches the nipple once, and then continues again further along the woman’s waist. She only stops once she reaches in between the brunette’s legs.

Villanelle chuckles darkly; her fingers only lightly touching and she already feels how wet Jhae is.

The Aussie relaxes, breathing out a quiet moan at the feeling of her former partner’s skilled fingers teasing her softly.

The blonde continues the motions from the tips of her fingers while she moves her free hand onto the bed next to the Aussie. She shifts her weight onto her knees and shuffles a bit further down to be level with the brunette’s breasts. A louder moan escapes Jhae at the feeling of Villanelle’s lips kissing and licking over her nipples.

Her hands dart to the Russian’s bun-tied hair. She combs her fingers through the honey tresses and instinctively twitches her hips forward every time she feels fingers softly stroke around her clit.

Villanelle changes the pace, and Jhae can’t help but jerk her hips up and clench her thighs around the body in between them when she feels the Russian bite down on her nipple while simultaneously slipping a finger into her.

Jhae whimpers.

Villanelle looks up, mouth still attached to the brunette’s chest, and withdraws her finger slowly, only to then slide two back in. She observes the Aussie’s reactions; the arching of her back, the tensing of fingers in her tied-up hair, the feeling of Jhae’s wetness increasingly covering her fingers and palm, and the sound of heavy breathing accompanied by an occasional whimper or moan.

It’s been a while, but they’ve done this so many times before, and she remembers every sensitive part of the brunette.

Jhae begins to gently rock her hips in time with Villanelle as they set a steady rhythm, but she’s again thrown into another sudden wave of pleasure as the blonde starts swiping her thumb lightly over the Aussie’s clit.

“Oh, fuck! Villanelle – “.

The Russian grunts in approval as she gradually increases her speed. She gets rougher as she continues her kisses, licks, and bites on the brunette’s chest knowing the Aussie will be climaxing any minute.

Jhae tries to focus; she’s wanted Villanelle’s hair down minutes ago, but it’s hard to concentrate when it’s been so long since she’s last been fucked this well. Her eyes are closed, the feelings are so overwhelming, but she finally manages to untangle the hair tie and cracks open her eyes to watch the honey-coloured tresses fall messily alongside Villanelle’s face and onto her own body; the blonde hairs adding to the sensations as they tickle along her chest and ribs.

She’s so close, and Villanelle knows exactly what she needs.

The blonde flattens her tongue and licks a line over Jhae’s left nipple and breast, and can feel the faint but strong thumps of the Aussie’s rapid heartbeat vibrating through her tongue. Villanelle lifts her head, and moves up and onto her knees again. Her right thumb is still stroking the brunette’s clit, and her fingers are still sliding in and out, but with her left hand she reattaches it to Jhae’s neck.

This time is different; she avoids the windpipe and instead purposefully applies slight pressure to both sides of the brunette’s neck, atop where her arteries lie beneath. She’s calculating, and purely intentional with every application of pressure on these parts.

Looking down into brown eyes, she recognises pure exhilaration. The brunette’s left hand rises up and lands atop the blonde’s on her neck, encouraging Villanelle to squeeze harder; she obliges.

Smirking, she increases her pace again and feels Jhae’s moan ripple through her hand. Another hard squeeze and the brunette cries out, Villanelle’s right fingers are clenched down on, and she feels the release of come and the warmth of it as it slowly oozes down her fingers. She slows her movements, stroking the brunette through her orgasm, and lets the Aussie breathe deeply.

She stares at her former partner for a moment, and then proceeds to kiss the brunette’s scars next to her lips instead.

Jhae’s in pure bliss. And when she realises Villanelle is kissing the scars the blonde caused on her, she’s oddly and pleasantly surprised.

She moves her hands up and along Villanelle’s back, nails lightly scratching, and then with her right hand she continues moving it to place it on the side of the Russian’s cheek again while the blonde is still leaving dragged out kisses on her scars.

She lightly guides the blonde’s mouth to her own. Their lips connect. It’s gentler now, and slower. Their faces part and Jhae sighs as she feels the blonde’s hand slip out from in between her legs and watches as Villanelle brings it to her mouth, licking her fingers and palm without hesitation.

The brunette breathes out a laugh and finds enough strength to roll them over. Villanelle looks unfazed; she’s still licking her fingers, and her gaze wanders over the body now sitting on top of her.

In this position, Jhae gets the perfect view of the pink horizontal scar on Villanelle’s waist that she saw a glimpse of before. Subconsciously, she reaches her hand out to touch it but is intercepted by the Russian’s in the same way she had done earlier to Villanelle.

“Don’t do that”.

Jhae frowns at the firm tone. She _really _wants to know what the deal is.

“Okay”, is the only thing she can think of to say.

Jhae moves her gaze up to meet Villanelle’s, and smirks before leaning down and kissing in between the blonde’s breasts.

Villanelle doesn’t react other than taking a deeper breath in, and moves to stroke her hands on the brunette’s shoulders. Jhae closes her eyes, it feels good to be in this position once more, and to be touched by Villanelle again.

** _Don’t lose focus. She tried to kill you. Just fuck her then go and kill Eve. _ **

Brown eyes snap back open. She moves her mouth over both the blonde’s breasts, kissing and licking, and then pinching a nipple in between her teeth before moving further down, kissing along the torso of the lean body underneath her.

Villanelle picks up on the brunette’s intention, and spreads her legs apart.

“Eager?”, Jhae lifts a teasing eyebrow.

The Russian huffs, clenches her jaw, and tangles both her hands in the brunette’s tresses, applying slight force to push the Aussie down where she wants her.

Jhae chuckles through the minor pain from the grip of Villanelle’s hands in her hair and finally leans down to where she was heading. She half lays flat, propped up on her elbows, down the bottom half of the bed and kisses the Russian’s inner thighs. She can feel Villanelle twitch the muscles in her legs every time her lips make contact.

Hazel eyes follow every movement. She absorbs through sight and touch the feeling of the kisses that are being left on her skin, and watches as the brunette moves her head down.

_Warmth_ and _wetness_, is what both women feel when Jhae’s tongue swipes a long lick along Villanelle’s slit. The blonde can’t help her hips twitching up as the Aussie’s tongue flicks over her clit at the end of the swipe, as if in need of more contact. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jhae, and she licks again, lighter this time, just enough to be a tease.

The brunette looks up, and watches the blonde sigh as she continues her teasing. She feels the hands in her hair tighten and loosen with every movement of her tongue, and watches as the blonde’s hips subtly lift up towards her mouth.

Villanelle’s gaze softens more and more; her eyes flutter closed and then spring back open. She suddenly pulls the brunette’s face closer, forcing the Aussie’s open mouth to sloppily lick and kiss her wetness as the tip of her nose occasionally rubs against the Russian’s clit.

Once again, Jhae gets the message. Villanelle doesn’t want gentle, she wants rough.

Jhae lets herself be guided by the hands tightly gripped in her hair; more pressure, faster pacing, repositioning, more tongue, messy kisses and licks. She bends her arms up and scratches hard along both of the blonde’s thighs.

“_Yes_…”, Villanelle breathes out.

Jhae does her best to look up while she continues moving her mouth the way the blonde wants, and an idea pops into her head.

Villanelle’s close and Jhae knows it.

Her hips are rocking against the brunette’s face and she’s moaning in between heavy breaths and pants.

The brunette licks around the Russian’s clit, kisses it, attaches her lips, and sucks on it. Just as the blonde bucks in reflex, the Aussie continues scratching the thigh to her left, and reaches her right hand up to the blonde’s waist. She grabs it, and presses her thumb hard against the pink scar.

“Oh G—! Eve!”

Villanelle moans loudly as she comes.

A pang of anger hits Jhae. She realises, foolishly, that the blonde was never thinking about her, but this… _Eve_. Controlling her rage for the moment, she finishes off Villanelle, bringing her down from her orgasm as her licks and kisses gradually get softer. The brunette gently grabs the Russian’s wrists, prying the hands from her hair, sits herself up and onto the side of the bed, and places the blonde’s arms just above where Villanelle’s head rests.

The blonde’s breathing calms and she turns to look at Jhae, who’s now bending over and rustling through the clothes on the floor.

The Russian strokes the back of her hand along the brunette’s spine, softly skimming over scars that have resided there since well before the two women met each other.

She freezes as she sees Jhae drop her blazer again and sit back up while holding something in her lap. Just before she can identify the object, her wrists are grabbed and forced up and to the corner of the bed. She yells from the pain of her muscle’s being abnormally stretched and twisted and feels the contact of cold metal on both her wrists.

Both women struggle for a few seconds until there’s the sound of a metallic zip and click.

Jhae hops up and off the bed, turning to watch Villanelle trying to yank her hands out of the restraints.

She smirks at the sight, proud at the fact she thought to bring the handcuffs. In the past they’ve only used them for targets, and also on each other for sexual purposes, but now it just works to her advantage in terms of being able to complete her mission without interruption.

Villanelle lays there naked on her back, arms up and hooked onto the metal pole that’s connected from the bed to the headboard. She halts her struggling and glares at the brunette, wild fury swimming in her eyes.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. We were having fun until you decided to scream another woman’s name”.

Villanelle genuinely looks confused and then almost instantly, it clicks. She realises she said _Eve’s _name and not Jhae’s.

“Wow… You didn’t even notice, did you?”

The blonde huffs.

“Alright, you made your point. Now, let me out of these”, she impatiently rattles the metal cuffs.

Jhae tilts her head and observes the woman before her. She chuckles and nods.

“Righto”.

Villanelle watches in anticipation as Jhae bends down to gather her clothes and frowns when she sees the brunette walk around the bed and towards the bathroom. She hears the tap start to run and a few splashes here and there and then it’s switched off. Seconds pass and the Aussie reemerges from the bathroom fully clothed and straightening out the lapels on her blazer.

She saunters back towards the side of the bed and leans over. Her face hovers close to the Russian’s. Brown stares into hazel, and Jhae breaks the silence.

“On second thought, no. I have to go to work now”.

Villanelle widens her eyes and looks ready to yell but the brunette cuts her off,

“If I remember correctly, you’re quite fast with getting yourself out of these”, she traces her fingers softly up one of Villanelle’s arms and to the cuffs, “I mean, after all, you did have me to teach you”.

Something catches her eye as the Aussie looks up; It’s another one of the blonde’s dressing gowns that is draped over the back of the headboard. Smiling, she reaches out to pick it up and slips out the silk fabric tie from the loops on the gown. Jhae lifts herself onto the bed and sits backwards on Villanelle’s lap, looping the fabric skilfully around the ankles of the blonde’s now thrashing legs.

“Jhae—”

“Calm down, Villanelle. You’ll get out of this. I just won’t be here when you do”, she hops off the blonde and crouches down to the bottom corner of the bed to knot the fabric on the metal leg.

Standing back up, she steps back next to the now completely restrained Russian. Her face softens.

The brunette leans closer, their faces an inch apart again.

“There’s… Something you should probably know…”, the Aussie’s voice just a whisper.

She leans further down and connects their lips. It’s soft, and Villanelle is reluctant at first, but then they both open their mouths and the blonde’s eyes snap open and she frowns as she feels Jhae’s tongue push something into her mouth.

Their lips disconnect and the brunette clasps her hand on the blonde’s jaw before she can spit out the object.

“Eve Polastri is my target”.

Villanelle almost chokes on the item in her mouth, her eyes growing wide at hearing that news.

“The key to the handcuffs”, her eyes flick to the blonde’s lipstick covered lips, a subtle gesture that she’s given the blonde a way to release herself from the restraints; but it’ll have to be precise, as she can’t wriggle her body up or down for a better angle. They both know she’s going to have to spit it out high enough and try to catch it with her hands, and if she misses, well, too sad, too bad.

“Consider this my head start”, the brunette reaches up, prying off the ring from Villanelle’s thumb to then place it on her own. She holds up her hand in front of her to observe it and sighs in relief.

** _Back where it belongs. _ **

Villanelle turns her head and looks to the side. She notices Jhae’s dagger still sitting atop the bedside table, but there’s no way for her to wield it in her current situation. The brunette follows her line of sight and giggles.

“Seeing as I’m feeling particularly generous today, I’ll leave you with that too”, she wanders towards the kitchen and picks up her phone that has been sitting there since after their breakfast.

Villanelle pays her no mind and instead focuses on which is the best way for her to extract herself from the state she’s in.

The Aussie walks to the top of the stairs leading to the front door and watches the blonde frown and grumble in her own concentration. She grins at the sight, and skips down the steps.

“See you there, Villanelle!”, she shouts cheerily over her shoulder as she finally exits the apartment.

Villanelle hears the click of the door shutting and feels the pressure set in. She’s got to get out of this now and beat Jhae to the hospital.

** _Eve, I’m coming. _ **


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super delayed update! Sorry everyone, a lot has been going on. Anyway this is the last chapter for 2019 wooo but more will come in 2020! Happy holidays to you all, whatever you do or don't celebrate, I'm sending best wishes to you all for the New Year!
> 
> Friendly reminder that text in both Bold AND Italics at the same time are thoughts from that character. Hopefully the chapter flows well enough that you can tell who's thoughts are who's cuz they change from different characters throughout; if not, let me know in the comments and I can alter the text to add the characters names at the start of the sentence to make it more obvious. 
> 
> Enjoy :)

“Down the hall and it’s the second last door on your right”, the nurse kindly instructs.

“Thank you so much, miss”, Jhae says, putting on her best act of sincerity before following the directions to the patient’s room.

She creaks the door open and peeks her head into the room to observe. Eve is there, lying on her back, hair splayed across the pillow, and with her eyes closed. Judging from her rigidness, she doesn’t appear to be sleeping; instead only resting her eyes, and deep in thought.

With practiced silence, Jhae creeps into the room.

She walks towards the bed and pauses next to her target before finally plonking herself down in the chair that sits between Eve and the windows. The squeak the seat makes breaks the older woman out of her pensive state.

Shock and confusion; two emotions Jhae immediately identifies as Eve reacts to a total stranger sitting in the chair to her right.

“Miss… Polastri? Am I saying that right?”, Jhae bends forward; elbows on knees and hands clasping together as she squints her eyes at the woman in the bed in curiosity.

“Yes…?”, Eve’s eyes dart down to the strange young woman’s hands, her brows crinkling as she starts to think she recognises the rose gold ring that’s sitting on the woman’s thumb.

Jhae smiles and nods at Eve’s answer, and silence descends on the two.

“Um… W-who are you?”

Jhae takes note of Eve’s American accent, but before she can answer the question, a nurse knocks on the door and cheerily enters the room with a platter of food. He drags behind him a large wheelie cart for collecting dirty towels that has folded white clean ones stacked on the back of it.

“Oh! Sorry for interrupting. I didn’t know you were expecting visitors until after midday, Mrs Polastri”, the young boy announces as he goes to set down the food onto the tray table in front of Eve.

Jhae remains leaning on her elbows facing towards the bed and continues mischievously eyeing Eve as the older woman warily looks back at her.

“No problem! I heard what happened to my poor ol’ Aunt Eve and flew over as fast as I could”, Eve watches in horror as the younger woman instantaneously slips into a flawless American accent, one wildly similar to her own.

The monitor beside the bed beeps twice, indicating an increase in Eve’s heartrate.

The nurse’s ears prick up as he walks over to observe it.

Eve just stares wide eyed at the woman sitting beside her. She wants to scream, call for help, _something_, but the look the younger woman is giving her is beyond threatening. If she does any of those things, Eve’s sure the woman will hurt her, or both her _and _the nurse.

“Are you alright, Mrs Polastri?”, the boy asks.

** _No?! _ **

“Yes!”, it’s a little louder than she intends, but the woman is still glaring at her.

Jhae lifts an eyebrow, encouraging Eve to be more convincing in her answer.

“Yes, I’m fine thank you!”, she forces a smile.

“Any discomfort?”, the nurse continues.

** _Yes! Plenty!_ **

“Ohh, no, no! I’m just starving and this looks delicious!”, she shakily reaches out for the soggy-looking triangle cut sandwich that’s plated up in front of her.

“Ok, that’s good to hear. And it’s great you have an appetite too; means you’re on the mend”, he scribbles something down on the clipboard at the end of Eve’s bed while both women continue their stare-off.

”Um, sorry to be a pain, but is there any chance you could bring in some hot water for us, please? I brought my Aunt’s favourite tea”, Jhae’s really working it; turning on the pout, the kind eyes, but really she just wants him out so she can get to business. But also, depending on how fast this nurse is at fetching, she could probably get a free mug of tea for herself as a bonus.

“Of course! I’ll be back in a moment”, he replies as he exits, leaving the cart near the door.

The door swings and shuts with a light click.

Paralysed with fear, Eve can only watch as Jhae reaches into her back pocket to pull out a switchblade.

“T-The Twelve sent you, didn’t they?”, Eve flinches at the sound of the young woman flicking open the knife.

Jhae rises from her seat, but pauses at hearing Eve’s question. She stares, frowning and wide-eyed at the older woman.

“Not many people know them by name. I’m surprised, if not a little impressed, that you do”, Jhae takes a moment to consider her options.

Meanwhile, Eve’s hand has slowly been inching towards the assistance remote attached to the bed in aim to call for help as she carefully watches the assassin’s every move.

“Tell you what, if you don’t press that button, I won’t slit your throat… yet. Deal?”, Jhae casually leans back and half sits on the window sill while flipping closed her blade.

Eve cautiously looks at the younger woman, taking a second to decide, but ultimately knowing she doesn’t really have any other option, she reluctantly concedes.

“I want to know who else knows about The Twelve”, Jhae turns her head to look out the window. They’re on the fourth floor, and as she looks down at the street she smirks as she spots a barefooted blonde-haired woman stopping traffic as she sprints across the road towards the entryway of the building below, “and I want to know, now”.

“Uhh—well there’s um-“, Eve stutters as her thoughts scramble.

“Focus, Eve. You don’t have much time”, Jhae’s tone’s firm as she once again draws the knife.

Eve’s face darts up at the way the young woman phrases her statement, _‘you _don’t have much time_’_.

Eve, in terror, begins her list,

“Everyone I work with! Uh, Jess, Hugo, Carolyn”, Jhae listens intently to the list of names Eve splurges, committing them to memory.

She gets distracted when the elevator dings, which is soon followed by raised voices, and the rapid slapping of bare feet on the linoleum, and then in comes… 

“and Villanelle!”, Eve finishes her list just as Villanelle bursts through the door.

“Speak of the Devil!”, Jhae exclaims excitedly as she holds the edge of the knife against Eve’s throat, “or should I say, ‘Demon’?”. 

“What the fuck are _you _doing here?!”, Villanelle may be red faced from sprinting, but Eve turns an equally crimson shade as she shouts her question at the blonde, surprising both Jhae _and _Villanelle.

“Come to finish me off yourself?!”, Jhae watches the scene unfold before her, “Or are you just here to watch someone else do it for you?”

The blonde just stands there, taking the verbal abuse as she catches her breath. Jhae tilts her head in bemusement at the look Villanelle’s giving Eve; she seemed elated, and she’s processing… _something_.

“…I thought you were dead”, Villanelle disbelievingly announces towards Eve between pants of relief and ends her statement with a small toothy smile.

“Oop! Déjà vu! She said that to me this morning as well… but with less excitement”, Jhae raises her eyebrows to the woman whose neck is still in contact with the edge of the blade.

“Should’ve aimed a little higher to save you _and _her all the trouble!”, Eve spits back at Villanelle.

Silence engulfs the room.

Jhae retracts her arm from Eve’s throat.

“You’re the one who shot her?”, Jhae directs her question to the blonde who’s still standing close to the door.

Villanelle doesn’t look away from the furious older woman as she pauses to take in a deep steadying breath before replying with,

“She was leaving me…”, her expression changes from joy to sombreness as her eyes grow wide and glassy.

Jhae’s takes note of this encounter so far, and the blonde’s reaction.

Eve doesn’t say anything in response to Villanelle’s words, so Jhae does,

”Well… at least you’re consistent”.

Villanelle glances at the Aussie and frowns in confusion while Eve looks up with a scowl, so Jhae gestures to the scarred gashes on her own face.

“You have a habit of maiming the people you care about, Villanelle”, Jhae laughs dryly.

Eve’s temper dampens at hearing that and Villanelle just huffs and is no doubt about to make a retort but is cut off as the nurse from before re-enters the room with a jug of hot water.

“Here we are…”, he sets it down on the tray, and fiddles a bit with the bed controls to lift Eve up into a more upright sitting position.

Eve and Villanelle continue their stare-off as Jhae’s eyes dart from between all three individuals. The atmosphere in the room is beyond tense, and it takes a substantial amount of time for the nurse to pick up on it.

The sound of the elevator dinging again followed by the very distinct voice and accent of a man she’s known for years grasps Jhae’s attention. She looks up at Villanelle in shock.

“Konstantin’s alive?”

Villanelle’s gaze snaps back over to Jhae.

“Yes”.

Eve studies the exchange between the two assassins while the nurse tries to make himself invisible by silently collecting the towels from the bathroom and swapping them with fresh ones.

The voices outside indicate there’s a British woman, which Jhae doesn’t recognise, and Konstantin, both of whom are being accompanied by couple of officers, no thanks to Villanelle’s rowdy entrance. Jhae turns back to Eve and looks at her in the eyes for a split second before snatching her gaze away. It’s enough for her to make up her mind.

Turning back to the blonde, Jhae offers,

“I won’t kill her now”, gesturing towards Eve, “if you tell me how Konstantin’s still alive, and what the fuck is going on”.

Villanelle’s eyes meet Eve’s; and it takes her less than a second for her to come to a decision.

“Deal”.

Eve blinks in surprise and relief at hearing Villanelle willingly save her life without hesitance in the cost of highly classified information. She wants to say something but no words come.

Jhae walks past Villanelle and over to the nurse in the bathroom.

“I need your scrubs and face mask, please”, she orders.

He looks up at her confused, towels in hand, and replies with,

“Um… No. And I thought you were American…”.

Jhae whips out her knife again and holds it in her hand as she tries once more,

“I said, give them to me. _Now_”.

As the nurse yelps, he hastily strips down and cowers in the corner next to the toilet, Jhae wastes no time and dresses the clothing on top of her own. It’s a little chunky looking but it’ll do the job. She only needs to wear it until they get out of the building.

She emerges from the bathroom to witness Villanelle a few paces closer to the end of Eve’s bed; her hands are at her sides clenching and unclenching, as if she wants to say something to the brunette in the bed.

“Villanelle”, they don’t have time for this.

Jhae chucks some towels at the blonde’s face, “get in the cart”.

The Russian growls and from the back of her jumpsuit she pulls out the intricately designed dagger that Jhae had left on the bedside table when they last parted. She lunges at Jhae and grabs the turquoise scrubs shirt.

“Why don’t I just kill you now? That way I definitely know you won’t go back on your word and kill Eve-“

She’s cut off by a frantic voice coming from the bed,

“No! Villanelle!”

Eve looks at the blonde pleadingly.

“I need her alive. She’s the closest source I now have for information on The Twelve besides you and Konstantin”.

Jhae looks from Eve back to Villanelle with a glint in her eye.

Villanelle’s looking at Eve like a child that’s been denied a toy, and grunts as she reluctantly releases the Aussie.

“Great, now that we’ve sorted that no one is dying today, Eve can you please tell Villanelle to get in the cart so we can get the fuck out of here?”, Jhae can hear the voices down the hall getting louder.

** _They’re coming this way. _ **

“Why do_ I_ have to get in? Why don’t _you_ get in it?”, Villanelle whines.

“Because _you’re _the one who worked with MI6 so they’re going to recognise you the instant we walk out of that door, dumbass. Now, get in and I’ll hide you underneath this mountain of towels”.

Villanelle gives her best pout and begrudgingly drags her feet towards the cart. While hearing the blonde grumbling to herself as she climbs in, Jhae spots Villanelle’s phone sticking out of the back pocket of her jumpsuit. She seizes the opportunity and smoothly pickpockets it before the Russian sits down.

“Eww, some of these are used!”, Villanelle exclaims in horror.

Eve tries her best to give a snigger but the pain of her wound only makes her grunt instead. As Villanelle looks up at Eve in annoyance for the older woman finding amusement in her misfortune, both women miss Jhae sneakily placing the blonde’s phone inside a pocket of Eve’s clothes that’s resting on the table against the wall at the back of the room.

A few seconds pass and the two women’s eye contact is interrupted as the brunette assassin starts dumping towels on top of the Russian to hide her body in the cart.

“Ughhh!”, Villanelle’s voiced frustration is muffled by the stacks of cloth that’s piling on top of her body.

“Shush, these ones are clean”, Jhae says as she lifts up the surgical mask to cover her face.

Disguise in place, she looks up at the wounded woman in the bed,

“Be seeing you, Eve”, Jhae says in finality, then pushes the door with her back and wheels the cart that holds Villanelle into the hallway.

Her eyes lock onto the officers, the tall short-haired woman, and her old mentor Konstantin, as they converse with the staff at the desk down the other end. Jhae pushes off. Her aim is reaching the elevator at the end of the hall.

The brunette casually walks closer and closer to the group, their voices sounding more frantic as Jhae picks up on the word ‘Villanelle’ being discussed. She keeps her eyes downcast as her and the hidden blonde continue getting closer.

Uneasiness is thick in the air as Jhae inconspicuously manoeuvres the cart around the group as they hurriedly begin to make their way to Eve’s room. As Konstantin turns to follow them, he bumps his arm against Jhae’s as she walks by him.

“Apologies”, the bearded man announces as he continues walking in the opposite direction.

“All good, mate”, Jhae replies without looking back.

Konstantin does though.

Spinning around he watches the brunette woman with the cart enter the lift. Picking up on the blatant Australian accent of the woman, he scrambles his thoughts as he watches her press a button.

Jhae looks up, and their eyes meet.

His face turns to shock, mouth ajar, wide eyes, and all.

He’s recognised her.

The elevator doors start to close and he sees the face mask the brunette is wearing start to crinkle at the edges. She’s smiling at him behind it.

He takes a step back, in the direction of Eve’s room but can’t take his eyes off the Aussie.

She gives him a wink just before the steel doors close.

“Eve!”, as the lift descends, Jhae hears the echo of Konstantin yelling out her target’s name in concern. 

He knows of Jhae’s reputation, of how she’s been working for The Twelve since she was in her teens. He trained her for a while after all. And not once has she failed an assassination. He should be expecting to stumble upon nothing less than splatters of red and the lack of a pulse when they enter Eve’s room.

Carolyn turns around at Konstantin’s outburst, she’s perplexed at his anxious expression and so picks up the pace from power walk to a slight jog towards the room.

She bursts through the door, followed closely by the officers, and then finally Konstantin.

Confusion comes from all of them. Carolyn stares at Eve in the bed, and Konstantin just gapes, speechless from surprise at the fact that Eve is still alive.

Eve doesn’t move. She’s sitting up, and slurping through the straw from the juice box that’s cradled in both her hands. Eyes unfocused, she’s lost in thoughts of the encounter she just had.

** _I can’t believe Villanelle had the nerve to come here. _ **

** _But if she didn’t, I’d be dead. _ **

** _Who the fuck was the other one?_ **

** _God, she’s just like Villanelle, with the different persona freaky shit. _ **

** _Are they all trained like that? To be able to do any accent they want perfectly?_ **

** _Villanelle looked good though… _ **

** _Stop it, Eve, she shot you._ **

From the sides of her eyes, Eve can see the officers helping the still crying naked nurse up from the floor as they provide him with clothes and escort him outside.

** _Her hair in that messy bun…_ **

Carolyn and Konstantin are both standing at the end of the bed staring at Eve.

** _Why was her lipstick messy?_ **

She can hear Carolyn saying something but it’s like hearing her from the end of a tunnel.

** _And that way she looked at me…_ **

“Eve!”

Eve halts her loud slurping of the now empty juice box and looks up at the two.

“What happened?”

_____

Exiting the back door near the loading zone of the hospital, Villanelle finally leaps out from under the towels and brushes herself off while Jhae removes her face mask and strips off the scrubs, throwing them all into the cart.

“So, what now _boss_?”, Villanelle deepens her voice in mockery for the last word, her question dripping with sarcasm. She cringes in disgust while fishing out a long grey hair from her cleavage that had obviously come off of one of the ‘used’ towels and had made its way onto her jumpsuit.

Jhae rolls her eyes, straightens her collar, and makes her way to the taxi stand at the end of the street with Villanelle unenthusiastically trailing behind.

“We go back to my hotel”, Jhae waves her hand to the cab driver a few metres up the road who’s leaning against his car smoking a cigarette. He acknowledges with a nod, disposes the cig, and hops into the driver’s seat.

“Why don’t we just go back to my apartment? It’s a lot nicer than your _hotel_”, once again mocking Jhae with wide eyes and spirit fingers for emphasis.

Jhae, opening the back-left door, looks up at Villanelle over the roof of the vehicle as the blonde does the same to the opposite side.

“Because if they’re after Eve, they’ll be after you”, the brunette lowers herself into the back seat as Villanelle mirrors her movements, “You need to fill me in with everything, but it won’t be safe for you to go back to your apartment right now”, Villanelle frowns and listens as Jhae then turns to tell the taxi driver the hotel’s address.

“Plus, I didn’t get to drink my tea at the hospital thanks to you attracting every law enforcement’s attention from this side of London”, the Aussie huffs.

“You told me you were going to kill Eve!”, the Russian barks.

The driver pretends he doesn’t hear anything as the women look at each other; and Jhae has to admit, the blonde has a point. She purses her lips and nods her understanding as they simultaneously turn to look out their respective windows in silence.

A few minutes pass and they pull into the hotel’s street.

“They might send you Diego”, Jhae voices her thought aloud to the blonde.

Villanelle faces back to the brunette, sheepishly smiling, eyes crinkled, and eyebrows raised.

“Mmmmmm, don’t think so…”, Villanelle drags out her sentence; the meaning behind it not lost on Jhae.

“Ugh, thank fuck, he was insufferable”, the Aussie’s comment is followed by the blonde nodding her agreement.

Silence yet again.

“Nadia?”, Jhae suggests as the car rolls to a stop.

Villanelle smirks as she unbuckles her seat belt and proceeds to swing the door open, hopping out still bare-footed. She bends back down,

“Definitely not”, and shuts the door.

Jhae raises her eyebrows.

** _Well… that rules out two. _ **

Jhae and Villanelle make their way inside. The hotel workers’ eyes are landing on the bare-footed blonde woman as her feet slap on the tiled floor behind Jhae while the pair wander over to the front desk.

“Ahh, Samuel…”, Jhae half smiles at the boy she scolded earlier this morning.

He looks at her, a little frightened.

“Hold out your hand, please”, she orders him.

He cautiously complies and she meets it in a handshake.

His eyes widen as he feels a relatively thick folded wad of cash held in between their grasped hands.

“You and your co-workers saw that I entered the building _alone_, yes?”, she not-so-subtly hints to him. 

Villanelle shifts her weight on the spot, somewhat disinterested with the exchange before her.

His wide blue eyes stare back into the Aussie’s brown ones before she snatches her gaze away to look at the analogue clock that’s hung up on the wall behind him, noting the time. It takes a moment for him to process what she’s saying.

“Yes, Miss”, he announces more confidently and retracts his arm, money taken and hidden in his faced-down palm which he moves to under the table.

“Make sure everyone gets the message”, Jhae announces sternly, indicating for Samuel to share the money equally with the rest of the workers in the lobby.

Villanelle spots a glass bowl of lollipops sitting atop the wooden bench and her face lights up.

Samuel nods once at Jhae before watching the brunette walk towards the elevators.

Villanelle selects a red one for herself, and before she follows the brunette, she hears,

“Can you please grab me a green one?”, as the lift dings its arrival.

After hearing the rustling of plastic, the two women step in the lift, side by side, Villanelle already well into sucking on her treat, and offers up an orange lollipop to Jhae.

The brunette groans. _Of course,_ Villanelle would grab the Aussie’s most disliked flavour.

The brunette’s fingers linger for a second atop the blonde’s as she gently accepts the lolly.

“Thanks”, she says flatly.

“This hotel isn’t _that_ bad, I guess”, the blonde mumbles around the candy half poking out of her mouth.

Jhae snorts as she looks back at the Russian. She thinks to herself of how easily Villanelle can be pleased. She begins unwrapping her detested _artificial _orange flavoured ‘treat’, if she would call it that, and pops it into her mouth with a grimace.

They spend the majority of the elevator ride in silence, aside from the licking and sucking noises of both candies. As the lift slows to a stop, the brunette speaks.

“When we get to my room, you’re taking a shower”, Jhae pulls the lolly out of her mouth and looks down at it as she speaks.

The blonde halts her sucking and whips her head to the side, brows knitted with a look of offence.

“You smell of sweat and sick people”, the brunette says before resuming sucking on her candy and exiting the lift.

“Both of that is _your_ fault!”, Villanelle struggles to exclaim the words as she rushes them out around the lolly.

Jhae grins, white stick poking out the side of her mouth, and swipes the key-card to gain access to her room. She holds it open for the grumpy Russian to step inside, and leaves the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign in place on the handle before releasing the door to swing closed.

Villanelle reluctantly makes her way to the bathroom and shuts the door behind her as Jhae proceeds to remove her boots.

She looks at the clock again, it’s a little after midday. The brunette guesses MI6 are in the process of moving Eve to a safehouse by now. All she and Villanelle has to do is just wait a couple of hours until Eve arrives at her new destination.

Plenty of time for some tea, lunch, and information from Villanelle.


End file.
